Razorblade Raindrops
by Any Unborn Child
Summary: 30 Drabbles about Seishiro Sakurazuka. Rated M from Chapter 22 on. COMPLETE.
1. Sapphires

Disclaimer: I do not own Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles. Only CLAMP does. Because they are Gods.

Razorblade Raindrops  
By Any Unborn Child

I. Sapphires

It was not the same, was it?

Leaning against the sakura tree, the wind almost tickling his face, his unruly hair in disarray, Seishiro realized this.

There had been a change in him. In Subaru.

His eyes were not the shining ones that he remembered, that he held with such adoration.

They had shone like jewels newly discovered, their presence untouched by time and the ways of the world.

That had changed now.

But only somewhat.

It was true that he had been affected by what had happened to him in his life, the trials that he had endured, but there still was a glimmer, a sudden refraction of light.

He then realized.

The emerald ebullience of his eyes had changed to that of sapphires.

Enduring, melancholic sapphires.


	2. Love

II. Love

There were many different levels of affection that Seishiro had been exposed to in his life. The fleeting goodbye, the passive hellos, the well meaning conversations in between… Most of them had to deal with some form of bartering, trading something, a piece of him, for what looked like endearment.

For what appeared to be love.

He had to do things that would have been unfathomable to others, in order to receive his mother's affection, her time of day.

It made sense to him. It was ingrained into his system, his life.

Because love was not given freely, his mother would say.

You had to earn it.

There was nothing about love that was unconditional, nothing that could be salvaged from a bond that could be broken again and again until there was nothing left.

The pieces could not be replaced, could not be glued together.

You had to seek it, to be driven to the ends of the earth, the ends of the universe and its many counterparts to fill the hidden and starving part of your soul.

His soul had taken so much – it could not be given what he wanted.

…At least…

Not from just anyone.

Looking up at the sky, the dimmest light was peeking from the remnants of the night, reflecting from Seishiro's glass lenses.

A cold, bitter smile appeared on his face – a smile voice of the naïveté that he had been denied.

"What would I know about love?" He sad aloud, the hope that someone would reply escaping him, not even crossing his mind.

As far as he was concerned, in his life, there was none.


	3. Hundreds

III. Hundreds

When he was younger, around the age of eight or nine, Seishiro could remember having a very vivid dream.

In his dream, there were hundreds of them. Dead bodies surrounded him, face down, blood forming, pooling around their forms. The forms that no longer sought breath, no longer needed it.

Those were the bodies of those who had been killed by the Sakurazukamori.

Those were the bodies, the number of which he was supposed to kill, to execute, in his lifetime.

Looking at the sheer number, it was then that it happened, with a scarlet red knife clutched in his fist,

He realized…

The bodies – the bodies…

They need not worry anymore.

Their worries, their troubles, the memories of guilty pasts – they would finally be over.

He remembered shooting straight up in his bed, sitting up.

He had touched his face.

His face was matted with tears – salty, fluid.

But… he had been happy.

His chest was swelling, overflowing with the happiness that he felt, that had consumed him.

For the first time in his life, up to that point in his life anyway – he had remembered being truly and irrevocably happy.


	4. Sunshine

IV. Sunshine

The golden rays of the orb in the sky would touch Seishiro's young face, caressing it almost, bringing him warmth and an existential comfort. And all he could think about was his mother.

Her touches were very similar, if not exactly like those of the rays of light – the effect unnoticeable except to him, the way her soft fingers would glide, lingering on his cheeks, his face, his lips…

Everything else faded when his mother touched him. Everything that was ever bad, in his mind, in his thoughts, in his actions, and everything that had been done to him, faded away like the sun's rays onto the earth after a terrible storm.

Everything else would be there afterward. Everything else would come back afterward, rushing back into the deep catacombs of his memory. But he would be forever affected.

By the only affection that his mother could give him.


	5. Moonlight

V. Moonlight

Seishiro found himself very much at home at night. At night, he could do anything he wanted, carry out anything that he set to, and complete it with such finesse and ease that he went to bed with a smile on his face.

He often went out solo in the perpetual twilight. He found it comforting to walk alone, with his thoughts as his only companion. It did him well to do so – there were times when his thoughts got so cluttered, as it did during the daylight hours, but once he was able to go out into the world of the dark, his mind was at ease, able to escape the worries of the day, and all was well.

He was not worried about any foolish hoodlums that came in his way. Most of the time, they, in all shapes and sizes, would ask for money or drugs, and when he told them he didn't have any, they'd been on their way and nothing would come from it. But there had been a couple of times when they didn't stop at no – with that, Seishiro would have no choice but to do away with them, and that would be the end of the debacle.

In a way he would be doing them a service – he would break them free of their trivial lives, lives that did not matter to him in the very least, or manage to make an impact on him.

There was something, moreoreless something in a certain someone, he searched for, something created an abyss of sleepless nights and frenzied dreams for him, endlessly searching for clues that might lead him to the certain someone.

The someone that he thought of so much, and yet so little.

By the moonlight, he keeps on searching, and knew that in due time he would find what he was looking for. He had all the time in the world.


	6. Fiery Orange Hair

VI. Fiery-Orange Hair

What had occurred…was it…it felt like a dream, a vision of sorts.

But…it did feel real…oh so real…

Reminding him of the bonds that he had so easily turned away from – there were many that he broke away from willingly, other things taking its place without much difficulty.

This bond was no exception.

He could see himself in this illusion – he was standing in front of a pupil of his, the one known as Syaoran.

Skilled, a determined look always on his face whenever he was set in combat.

They were the only ones in the copper landscape, slowly morphing into the redness of blood, sand and mountains as far as the eye could see.

He had taught him well. What moves to use, which ones would be more effective when…

It had been a long time since they last crossed paths, back in Outo Country.

Syaoran had been so surprised just seeing him, someone he had thought gone away forever.

It was about time he taught him something else.

"We meet again at last…my old friend."

He could see the surprised expression return to his former student's face, his knuckles tightening as he held onto his sword.

Under his breath, Syaoran had said to himself, "It's Seishiro…"

How interesting – he still held him in such high regard. With that, Seishiro could only chuckle lowly. He reached behind him, and plucked one of Sakura's feathers out of thin air, materializing in his hand. This was the award that Syaoran sought – the memory of his beloved.

"You've been searching for these feathers, haven't you Syaoran? So now…what would you say towards fighting me for this feather as a prize?"

There was a pause. A beat. So it was correct…

Syaoran had no idea of what to do. He had not changed at all.

Seishiro put his arm out, his palm facing outward, and at once a black lance formed around it, cloaking the appendage until it was completely devoured, leaving the weapon in his wake.

A small smile graced his features. There was no stopping him now.

It was then Syaoran spoke, with a calm, unprecedented gusto in his voice. "Don't think I'll be tricked by it."

This took Seishiro by surprise. Tricked?

"You're just a fake. I would know if the real Seishiro stood in front of me."

It was around this time that Seishiro awoke with a start, utter confusion wracking his mind.

What was this dream? Was it trying to tell him something?

Was the dream…even over?


	7. Marked

VII. Marked.

The next night, the dream seemed to pick up where it left off.

The two had finally exchanged blows, with both swords clashing against one another, blades again and again striking hard metal, sparks flying upon impact after impact, where it looked as if they were trying to start a firestorm.

That was until one moment where Seishiro decided not to counterattack, but to hold off against Syaoran's rapier, staving him off, holding his own weapon steadily against the force of the other with predicted ease.

"You have grown much stronger Syaoran. You have greatly refined your talents as a swordsman since we last met," He paused, only to add, "And you no longer hesitate."

Syaoran must have seemed threatened, for his eyebrows furrowed and his copper orbs thinned. "You can say whatever you want to. But don't think I'll be fooled."

The older swordsman was amused at the younger one's dilemma. It was interesting, not to mention entertaining to see Syaoran in this state of harried self-preservation.

It reminded him of their training sessions together, ones that seemed so far into the past but so easy to recollect. They were very similar to the confrontation they were having right now, but with less trepidation on the student's part. This time, Syaoran had no trouble defending himself against his master, the one who had taught him everything that he knew, the one that had been in such high regard for the longest time.

But no matter.

"This time I'll be the one to attack."

With his lance at the ready, Seishiro lunged in, brandishing his weapon with the expert form that he had carried for as long as he could remember, fully prepared to defeat his former student.

Suddenly he stopped.

His grey eyes widened.

He looked down.

He could feel something within him, what felt like an electric current of sorts, traveling both within and against his body, tickling and torturing the nerve endings. His hands started to shake, sweat was forming along his brow – nothing was as it was supposed to be.

What was going on?

What was happening?

He couldn't remember being in so much pain in his entire life, a flood of memories, memories that he would sooner die than remember rushing back into his mind – memories of anything and everything.

Anything and everything.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block the images from escaping into his subconscious, the pain he was feeling increasing three-fold, until he couldn't take it all any longer.

He had to scream, scream louder than he had ever screamed before.

Before he knew it, a scream ripped itself from his body, reflecting and representing everything that was inside of him. It was then that the current consumed him, masking him until he was no more, until he was unable to see the look of shock and unprecedented horror on Syaoran's face.

Seishiro awoke again.

He had no idea what had just occurred.

It all seemed like an illusion, something that his mind was doing to play tricks on him.

But no – it was a still memory, a memory that would forever be marked upon him.

And there was nothing he could do about it.


	8. Blissful

VIII. Blissful

For some reason, Seishiro had been unusually nostalgic recently.

He had thought of the occurrences, the crystal-clear memories that had made him the person he was today.

He had thought of the missed opportunities, the second glances and the actions that would make normal individuals go insane with guilty psyches, which he would no longer accept.

There was something that made him uneasy. Something that he had set his sights on, but could only dream about.

There was something that he missed, something that he strived for. True, it was one of the only things keeping him to this earth without going crazy with boredom. And yes, it seemed ill-fated at first, but no – he was going to find what he wanted.

He was going to find what had made him worth something.

He was going to find Subaru.

Of course this wasn't going to be easy – there were times when he was purely content with the reminiscences of their times together…

…How one smile of his, the simple, innocent turn of the boy's lips could make him experience a feeling that he had never felt before, and had never been given back to him…

…How easily he could be startled, with an easy nudge, a light tap on the shoulder, or the shine of light reflected upon his glasses could make Subaru's eyes widen with such disbelief and wonder…

…How little Subaru would squirm and writhe under his touch, the warmth of his skin radiating towards the cold, numbness of his own, the way his back arched, how quickly the raw pleasure could consume him and swallow him whole, leaving the older gentleman wanting more…

More than he had ever wanted anything – he had not wanted anything more blissful until now.

Yes…He was going to find Subaru.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't have some fun along the way.


	9. Groan

IX. Groan

There was much to be said about Seishiro's bond with his younger brother.

Fuuma was an unexpected person - an accident, if he could even call him that. Even from the tender age of five, he always saw the world with such wonder and amazement. It was surprisingly to him that he still carried that today, albeit a more subtle version of it.

It wasn't like Fuuma didn't understand what was going on in his world, the way it could tilt on its axis so very easily, and the way things could go into his favor without even realizing it.

It wasn't as if he was naïve or anything.

No – there was something else. Something that made him and Seishiro alike, other than the DNA that they shared.

It was the fact that they both had something to pursue.

Deep down, Seishiro knew that all he was pursuing an idea, a concept that he had not been given without having to give something in return, without him having to work for it. He was looking for the unconditional ways that had been bestowed upon him from an unlikely yet so easily detectable being. He still wanted to look though – he still wanted to find the being that had touched him so, and make sure that he would exact what he had been denied for so long.

Fuuma was always on the pursuit of something more, the next thing he could dig up and experiment with, tinker with its parts and see what he could do with it, what he could use it for. That was the business, and clandestine fun, of treasure hunting for him after all. It was like him to be curious about things and how they worked, but interestingly enough, especially in cases with the human heart, he never had to work for long. As soon as he found one part, he could figure out the sum without having to waste anymore energy.

This was a point of contention with Seishiro. He didn't outright despise his brother – on the contrary, actually.

It was the fact that Fuuma had luck falling into his lap, being appreciated no matter what the effort was on his part, whereas Seishiro had to work for even a scrap of what his younger brother was given with ease.

It was enough to make him groan with annoyance – something that he did not do most of the time.


	10. Why?

X. Why?

Seishiro didn't need to find out the reasoning of everything as much as he used to, as of late anyway.

He found himself more comfortable with tying everything together by his own timeline, where he was able to piece the clues of the past and what lay ahead of him at his own pace, without any pressure of a deadline or another human being to question his thought process.

With each reason he had thought of to explain something, it would appear simple at first, but within that reason there were many others, waiting and lurking at every turn, not knowing what the real reason was behind one of his actions. He was an enigma to many people, and with good reason.

They didn't need to know why he did what he did.

They didn't need to know why he took to such an exquisite being, someone who was so pure that it hurt just to look at them.

They didn't need to know why he let someone affect him so much, let that person change him, and yet change nothing about him at all.

They didn't need to know why he gave up his right eye so easily, why he traded it for the ability to travel through dimensions, worlds that he had yet to discover and unravel.

They didn't need to know why he was going on such a journey for something that truly seemed unfathomable, something so unattainable.

They didn't need to know his way of thinking.

They didn't need to know why.

All that resonated was the last thing, the last words that he heard from the person he was seeking, the person he thought he truly didn't care for.

The faint cry of, _"__Why in the __world__ would you do __that?"_

Is there ever a reason?


	11. Empty

XI. Empty

"What is it that you seek?"

It had been a rainy day when Seishiro entered the Dimensional Witch's shop. His tan, priest-like robes had been soaked from the torrential rain that seemed to have plummeted from the sky, drops still lingering on his hair, lurking down to his eyelashes and lips. Drops of rain would occasionally fall from his body to the floor, There was an occasional ping of hail hitting the roof of the shop, as if signaling a strange occurrence was about to take place.

Then again, strange was nothing new to Seishiro. Nor was it to Yuuko. To them, strangeness seemed to follow them wherever they went; and they didn't mind it one bit.

Yuuko was in her traditional attire, a black satin dress adorned with white abstract patterns along the long sleeves, which covered most of her arms, and the headdress placed upon her head was decorated with white satin cloths, hung low on either side of her face. She had an air of regal sophistication and quiet mysticism about her, as if she could tell the future of someone's fate just by looking at them.

Seishiro had no doubt about her abilities and what she could do with them. That is why he came to her in the first place.

"I hope you pardon the intrusion, given the weather and all. For some reason I have seemed to be drawn to this place – perhaps you can tell me…" Seishiro stated with a polite smile on his face. As he spoke, he looked around the store – it seemed to have a simple layout. There were not a lot of things on display, if anything at all. But the place seemed to call to him, internally.

Perhaps this was the reaction that everyone garnered.

Yuuko knowingly smiled. "Yes. You are very perceptive, are you not?"

"Quite – or so I've been told." The hunter replied.

The witch's gaze shifted. "What is your wish…Seishiro Sakurazuka?"

For a moment, the aforementioned man's breath caught in his throat. She was good – very good. She didn't even ask for his name.

He closed his eyes and smiled.

"I wish for the ability to transcend dimensions – for the ability to travel to different worlds. What I seek is not in this world. It could be in the next world, or the one after that. I am not certain, but I am going to find out no matter what."

The conviction in his voice was easy to read, but the delivery was not – his voice came out as smooth as honey, though inside he could his heart pummeling against his chest like a jackhammer. It was clear what he wanted, or in this case, who he wanted.

Yuuko replied, after a short pause, "All right. If that is your wish…it shall be granted. But there is a price. You must give up something of equal value to what you gain. Do you understand that?"

Seishiro did not waver. "Yes. I understand completely."

The Dimensional Witch continued. "Good. In this case – In order to travel between worlds, you must give the sight in your right eye."

Seishiro blinked once. If that was the price he had to pay – if his right eye was to be the empty vessel of his power - then so be it.

"I accept."


	12. Raving

XII. Raving

Relationships, the very mention of the word, often made Seishiro raving mad. The subject of them puzzled him, to the point where the word didn't seem to mean anything but utter contempt and false promises.

The promise of love and affection…nothing.

Nothing would amount to it – there was only so much someone could take, and the deep promise, the hope and the wish for it would only bring more pain, more suffering, more heartbreak.

The contempt of others taking away what was yours – that drove him insane.

Unless he was the one that would turn away, that would leave for a reason known to no one but him.

It was until he was actually in a relationship, one that didn't mean giving and giving without any hope of reciprocation, that he realized.

He really was raving mad.

In his possession, there was nothing anyone could do to deter him from what he desired.

And he desired so much…


	13. Continually

XIII. Continually

It appeared that Seishiro was continually being thwarted time and again. With each clue he unraveled, with each tapestry of questions and polite nods of the head, he still was not able to find what he was looking for.

He arrived at Outo, and had been there for about a month or so before anyone had realized what he was doing to the community. He was the one who had been controlling the demons that the self-proclaimed fighters deemed themselves worthy of opposing, the one pulling the strings. So far, things had gone about as planned – the fighters had fallen one by one, and the community, was taking it as passively as they could, warning others but failing to do much else.

That was until Syaoran and his group showed up. They had been very clever, easily able to deduce what his intentions were in the society, the interesting yet predictable world known as Outo.

Although…

They had not uncovered the entirety of his plan.

That was for them to find out on their own.


	14. Maniac

XIV. Maniac

"Just tell me where the demon hunters are."

This was what Seishiro had said after he entered the Cat's Eye one fall evening. Earlier, he had discovered that it was the café that Syaoran and the others had started once they had arrived in this world, the world of Outo, and there had been a lot of buzz generating about it. Once he heard the name, the elusive nature of the establishment, he thought it bore a connection.

So there he was.

Presently, he stood at the doorway, and could see the magician known as Fai, hovering over the sleeping body of the girl named Sakura, who Syaoran knew for a long time and seemed to care for deeply. He could also see that a little white creature was near the girl as well. But that was none of his concern.

For now the demon hunters were his only matter of interest.

A flash falls against his right eye.

The magician walked a few steps toward the hooded figure, in front of the couch that held the princess' sleeping form. Bearing a smile, one that has probably seen many battles before this one, the magician said, "Welcome to the Cat's Eye. Would you like a table, sir?"

Seishiro replied, "No thank you. I've come for the demon hunters."

"Unfortunately, they happen to be out at the moment."

"You mean you are not a hunter yourself?" Seishiro inquired further.

The smile still on his face, Fai answered. "Oh no. I'm just a simple café manager."

"I wouldn't say simple, magician."

Another flash.

The mage's expression changes somewhat. "Perhaps not. But that's beside the point. What do you want with the demon hunters?"

It is then that massive swirls of black smoke start circling away from Seishiro's body, forming into energy masses resembling demons. "Why I intend to get rid of them."

Fai doesn't seem fazed. At least, not yet. "I'm going to guess you are this Seishiro person I've heard so much about. Syaoran tells me you are the one who taught him how to fight."

The masses continue to pool around the hunter. Seishiro asks, "And just how to do know Syaoran?"

"I've been traveling with him and some others for some time now."

"He's traveling between worlds, is he? I see."

Seishiro pauses for a moment, drinking in the sight of the black pools of smoke before him, and noticing how little Fai's disposition has changed. He hides his uneasiness well.

He continues with, "He certainly didn't have the ability the last time I saw him. He met the witch then. I wonder what Yuuko's price was - it's never an easy one."

"You can travel too. You're gifted. But your magic alone isn't enough to pull that off. So tell me Seishiro, what price did the Dimensional Witch demand of you?"

"My right eye."

It flashes once more, as if presenting itself as a gift.

Seishiro motions to it. "And she gave me this one – its magic enhances my own and allows me to travel from world to world."

"Magic like that is limited, correct? You can only use it a certain amount of times, and that means there are only a certain number of worlds you can travel."

The magician was clever. The happy-go-lucky nature was simply a façade.

"That's right. So you see, because of my restrictions, I can't afford any missteps. And I'm afraid you and your friends are a liability."

The demons, finally forming into two distinct masses, attack the magician. He easily dodges, landing on the counter of the bar. His right foot creaks – Fai grimaces at the pain, an old pain at that.

"Fai!" The white creature squeaks, worry in its voice.

"Mokona, stay by Sakura no matter what." Fai states with a mix of firmness and reassurance, trying not to let his discomfort show.

"Right!"

Seishiro is not fooled. "Seems to be something wrong with your leg. If you're hurt, wouldn't it be easier to use magic rather than fists?"

Fai puts his hands on his hips, trying to remain balanced. "Naturally. But I gave up magic when I left my home world."

The hunter replies with, "Well then it looks like you're dead."

For a moment, there is another pause, but this time on the magician's part. Behind his smile were hints of loss, of self-sacrifice, of grief never properly dissolved within his system?

What Seishiro noticed was the fact that Fai's face didn't change - it didn't change at all at the fact of his imminent demise. Unless…

Seishiro's eyes narrowed. _"That's what you've been seeking." _

"It began that way, yes. But then a new friend said something that changed my mind." Fai stands up straighter, his arms at the ready for a confrontation. "I've given up on myself. But not anymore. I won't let you kill me. At least not without one heck of a fight."

"A noble sentiment. But unfortunately for you I'm running out of time." Seishiro states, with an edge in his voice.

At this, the wizard's eyes seemed to grow colder, as if his stare could freeze the situation at hand. "Mokona – you need to stay out of this. If anything happens to me, you need to find Syaoran. It's important he knows about the feather."

"Fai…" The creature's worries are only heightened.

"Say goodbye…"

There was a sickening crunch as one of the demons snapped its jaws.

But that crunch was music to Seishiro's ears.

It was only inevitable – the magician was no more. At least in this world anyway.

Now all Seishiro had to do was to find the demon hunters – it was Syaoran he was seeking here.

For it was clear -

The maniac still had his goals in mind.


	15. Dreamily

XV. Dreamily

It was later that night – the colors in the sky had already fallen to the charcoal hue of the twilight. Th moon above was blood red, hanging in the sky like that of a jewel, the encrusted end of a pendulum.

It was not a moment later when Seishiro, holding a levitating feather in his hand, noticed a rustling in the forest, a lingering vibration – and then nothing.

The boy, the one known as Syaoran, had found him at long last – he stood a few feet away, his stance firm and a sword in his hand. He had no doubly come for the vengeance of his friend. It was clear that he had run a great way to come to him, to deal him whatever it was he thought he deserved.

There was no mistaking the boy's endurance.

"Syaoran…I had a feeling you'd come alone."

Not moving an inch, Syaoran answered with, "Where is the princess?"

Seishiro just stared. To tell the truth, he had no idea – not that it mattered. The princess was of no concern to him now – only later would the idea of the princess come to him.

"A group of demons attacked my friend Fai. Are you the one responsible?" Syaoran's voice did not waver, though it was clear that he did not want his worst fears to be realized.

The hooded figure could only reply, "I suppose I am."

"Where is he, Seishiro? What did you do with him?"

Seishiro blinked once, and then looked back at his former pupil, a tone of malice in his voice.

"He's dead."

Syaoran's fears were indeed justified. It was clear that he had held his friend in high regard – Seishiro could almost see the air catch in the boy's throat.

A moment later Syaoran said, "He and I started this journey together. I never learned much about him – but he was a very good friend. And you took his life."

Syaoran raised his sheath, clutching it tightly in his fist. "You murdered him, and I won't let you get away with it. I promise you."

Seishiro closed his eyes, dreamily, recounting a memory. "I see you haven't changed - have you, boy?"

Said boy was at a loss for words.

Good.

"Think back…_back to the first day we met_…"


	16. Brightness

XVI. Brightness

Seishiro had wandered into the country of Clow by accident – from what he knew about it, there was not much to be found out there. It seemed very peaceful, simple, teeming with sand and hot temperatures, not a place anyone would normally venture, especially those of the blood drinking variety.

So far he hadn't seen any leads to go from, nor had he met the right people to ask.

But one day, he was walking into town where he came across an unusual scene – a group of hoodlums, no more than five, was ganging up against a boy who couldn't have been older than ten.

After a book.

"You hand that book over now, kid." The big man of the group boomed.

The boy was clutching the book against his chest – clearly it meant something to him.

"Look, this isn't yours, it's for my father. You can't have it Ok – just leave me alone!"

Another thug, a wiry one, spoke. "We'll leave you alone after you hand over the book. Now come here!"

Before the thug could lay one finger on the boy's head, Seishiro stepped in, easily throwing the hoodlum over and on his back. More charged in, though this proved little help as Seishiro did away with the group without even breaking a sweat, without even moving an inch.

It had gotten so easy these days, to revel in his superiority over others.

The boy's eyes widened, astonished at the stranger's valiance.

Seishiro took a few steps toward him, noticing the shine of the boy's eyes – they mirrored innocence, a naïveté that he had never gotten the chance to experience.

"Thank you for rescuing me, sir."

"There's no need to thank me, kid - Although I would like to see that book."

The boy clutched the book tighter now, his brows furrowed, a cautious nature replacing the innocence in his brown orbs.

"I'm not trying to steal it. I simply want to see what it says and I swear I'll give it back to you."

There was another pause. Seishiro scanned the book's spine, and without letting it show, a realization came to him.

"That's quite a book. I've heard that it talks about creatures that drink people's blood."

This seemed to pique the boy's interest. "Yeah I've heard of them – they're called vampires."

"You're smart, aren't you?"

"I read about them in one of the books my father has. But it's just a story – they don't exist."

"Actually they do exist. I've seen them myself."

A look of alarm crosses the boy's face.

"The truth is, I'm hunting vampires. Two mean ones in particular."

For a reason unknown to him until later, Seishiro felt almost relieved saying this out loud. It was good to let someone other than himself know of his plan, the one of many goals for his journey.

The boy grows more curious as he presses on. "Is that why you want to look it, so you can find them? Will this book help you track them down?"

As expected.

Calmly, Seishiro replies, "I'm not sure yet. Hopefully. I have to see it to know for certain."

The young boy pauses for another moment, taking in the new information. He extends the book out. "Take it."

The boy's generosity didn't surprise him. "You sure about that? How can you trust me though – what if I don't give it back? I could be just another bandit telling stories in order to steal it."

"I don't know if I can trust you or not, you could be just trying to steal it..." The veil of distrust suddenly vanishes from the boy's eyes. "But still, you helped me without knowing me, so I'm going to help you and this book is the only thing I have to give."

Seishiro smiled, his eyes narrowed, a feeling of satisfaction washing over him.

Later that night, he and the boy were perched on a rocky barrier near the edge of the city, the aged book open in his lap. The task of reading it so far had not been an easy one.

He sighed; addle frustration subtly permeating his voice. "I can't understand a word of this. It's like it was written in a different language or something."

"Yeah, my dad said that it was written in an old-style script that no one uses anymore." The boy replied with a sense of knowledge to his words.

Seishiro chuckled to himself, irony the only word he could think of to describe the situation. "Great, so now I have a book I can't read."

The boy looked puzzled. "You're not actually from this country, are you?"

Seishiro turned to the younger one. "No I'm not, and neither are you. Correct?"

"Ok, so where are you really from then?"

Reflectively, the black-haired man closed his eyes. "Somewhere…" Opening them, brightness flashes against his right eye. "…that's very far away."

The boy look startled. "Your right eye…"

Knowing this, Seishiro replied, "Yes. It's like yours."

"How do you know that?"

"I watched as you were running from those men earlier. You have to know what to look for."

There is a brief pause as Seishiro looks at the little one, his right hand near his right eye. He is suddenly overwhelmed with a brief nostalgia, of what could have become of him, what he had turned into. He also reflects on what the little one could become…if he strayed too far…

The boy breaks the silence by saying, "You were fighting those men earlier – how did you do that?"

Back from his thoughts, Seishiro answered, "Hunting vampires can be risky, kid. I wouldn't survive if I couldn't fight, so I taught myself."

The younger male seems excited at this, hope and optimism in his words. "I hope I can fight like that too."

The older male looked out towards the far off mountains, a small smile on his face. What was this he was feeling? For a moment, now he could recall being…proud of himself…of his own abilities…

"Are you going to catch those vampires you were talking about earlier?"

Slowly, again emerging from his own thoughts, Seishiro closed the book he was holding. For some reason this caught the boy by surprise.

"There's no way for me to know that. First I have to find someone who can decipher this for me."

The boy stands up, the sound of his footsteps vibrating in Seishiro's ears. "Well, there's me - I can read it. My father taught me the script. But if I help you - as a tradeoff – you have to teach me to fight like you."

The older male was stunned – his eyes slightly narrowed, and his mouth agape. For the life of him, Seishiro could not describe what he was feeling. At first, he could feel an immense gratitude towards the boy – it was something that he had experienced only once before, the very act of someone who genuinely wanted to help him without anything strenuous or humiliating attached to the deal. The other emotion, the other thing he couldn't believe, was the sheer act of charity that was being done for him – the act of giving. The boy only knew him for a little while and was trying to help him, despite the fact that he knew the man may be up to something.

And he was right.

Seishiro blinked once, and straightened up. "You have a name, kid?"

The boy was firm, his voice seamless in delivery. "My name is Syaoran."

Seishiro closed his eyes and smiled. "Syaoran – we have a deal."

Yes – there was brightness there, unexplored potential, like treasures buried deep in the sands of time, a hidden power within people being sought after, a desire long obscured finally being fulfilled.

There was no turning back now.


	17. Closed

XVII. Closed

As quickly as it started, the memory dissolves into the twilight of the present. Seishiro still stands in front of his former student, Syaoran, a mystical feather in hand, with Syaoran posing for a battle.

Seishiro closed his eyes, the lingering reminiscing still in his mind. "You're still that boy in many ways…trusting…" Slowly, he opened his eyes, and a flash of light appeared on his right eye.

"Naïve."

There is a pause.

"I'm sorry but I can't help you this time."

Three sakura leaves fall onto the ground, and instantly transform into demon-like creatures, sharing the trait of a single eye in the middle of their foreheads.

Seishiro could sense the boy's growing discomfort.

"Demons are created to fight, so they are difficult to control – like these for instance. I can't do much to stop them from attacking."

One demon lunges for Syaoran, but he quickly fights it off with a single kick, until the rest start to gang up on him, mirroring a distant memory.

"Of course…I don't really want to stop them either."

As Syaoran continued to fight the creatures off, Seishiro continued, like it was nothing. "What I really want is to meet the strongest demon, the A-1. I hear that it can bestow eternal life – just like the vampires that I'm searching for."

Syaoran lands on the ground, knees bent, ready to burst with energy at any moment. "All this time and you're still hunting them?" He sprints into the air, doing away with another demon.

The older male can sense the younger one's confusion, amidst everything. "That's right. I have reason to believe that the vampires are A-1 demons. And that, my friend, is why I can't afford to keep you here."

Out of the corner of his eye, Seishiro could see the hidden silhouette of a young girl, the one called Sakura, clad in a bar maid's uniform. It is clear that she was looking for Syaoran, as if their destinies were magnetized, drawn to one another's as if it was their own. He can hear her say under her breath, "Where am I?" She looked dazed, as if awoken from a long sleep – a moment later she would see the predicament her love was in.

Syaoran was continuing to fight off the demons, and didn't look like he was stopping anytime soon. Why should he though? These demons served as a diversion, but also showed Seishiro something else.

"You've gotten better – Syaoran. Your technique's not perfect but at least now you can react to attacks from your right side much quicker." The feather in his hand disappeared from sight, absorbed into Seishiro's body, as it would remain from then on. He drew the energies from the demons into his hand, all of them forming a lance on his right arm, the singular eye protruding from the center, prominent as ever.

Sakura, from behind a tree, was trembling with fear – she had no idea what was going on and was never going to.

Syaoran has stopped fighting, if only to look at the monstrosity that had become Seishiro.

To Seishiro, it did not matter what he had to do in order to achieve his goal, his one saving grace from plummeting into the madness that was his own heart. What he had become, whatever turned him into the person, the shell, the being that he was, did not matter now.

All of this had to end.

"But no matter how good you've become…if I am going to meet the A-1, then I cannot allow you to defeat it first. So instead…you're the one…_who dies!_"

Seishiro lunges, charging in, his lance throbbing, at the ready to strike.

Syaoran stood still, his form rigid, his body prepared for the finishing blow.

This was it…this was the feeling that Seishiro had been waiting for…the feeling that he had grown accustomed to…but this time…this time it was increased tenfold – his heart was beating like a jackhammer, adrenaline pumping through his body - a high that he never wanted to end…

"_Sorry it had to end like this!" _

With that, he drew his lance, and ran it into Syaoran's body.

Sakura reaches out, words forming at her lips, but in the end, she can do nothing.

A flurry of sakura blossoms rush into the air, as if counting the number of people that Seishiro has had to kill over the course of his life, and adding one.

In all of this, Seishiro wears the same expression – half-lidded eyes, a self-satisfied smile.

Familiar sounds reach Seishiro's ears. Choked gasps are the only thing that now comes from Syaoran's mouth. His fists clench, his eyes are as wide as saucers, and his torso heaves up and down.

The feeling of his lance in Syaoran's body makes his arm quake, his breathing quickening under the immense pressure, his own body overflow with a multitude of emotions he cannot describe – only with one other person did Seishiro had this feeling…

He draws his sword out, the energies of the demons escaping his arm and surrounding, and eventually absorbing into Syaoran's form.

A scream wretches itself from Syaoran's throat.

Seishiro smiles, almost pitifully at the boy's fate.

"It's over for you…Syaoran…"

Digitalized pieces of his body start breaking off, disappearing – Syaoran's eyes widen with a distraught nature to them, the look of someone who can't believe that they are going to die today.

In a spurt of energy, the princess runs over to the boy, getting closer to him.

"Syaoran, no!"

The boy turns, his eyes growing even wider, this time with concern for the girl. "No princess, please stay back!"

Indignant, the girl replies, "No I won't!"

The boy grows even more concerned, worried about the girl's safety than his own. "Princess – you have to leave."

The girl shakes her head with a mix of fury and heartbreak. "No!"

The boy thins his eyes. "I can't let you get hurt too."

The girl gets even closer to the boy, putting her arms around him protectively. "I'm going to stay…"

The boy thins his eyes, a deeper level of concern reaching them. "Princess…"

With that, the two of them share a look, a conversation with no words.

Bonds…one that has existed for a long time…words that can't be spoken are revealed with one look.

The two souls disappear into the midnight, not a trace of them seen.

Needless to say, Seishiro was not expecting that to happen – he did not predict for the girl to appear by Syaoran's side.

He could only stand, if that for the time being, his right arm pulsating, the thrill of the moment still in his bloodstream.

He came to a realization that night – he had never opened his heart like that…to anyone…nor had anyone opened their heart to him.

His heart had always remained closed…and it would always remain that way.


	18. Opened

_**(A/N: Sorry about the delay. I had to go with my mom, my sister, and my aunt to get my mom to the hospital – she was called and they said that they had the transplant ready. A day later, they said that the organ was too small for her. All in due time, I guess.) **_

XVIII. Opened

After the battle with Syaoran, there was a break in Seishiro's consciousness.

Another dream starting taking place in his mind.

Was it a dream though?

Or…

Maybe…an illusion…

From the start, it looked like wishful thinking…

But…

Wouldn't it be nice to dream…

To be able to indulge in the wonders in life…

…There was so much he had missed…

In reality.

In the real world.

He delved in and out of reality so easily nowadays…it was hard to tell whether he was dreaming or whether he was fully awake…

This one had Seishiro with another, one he had been looking for, the one he had been searching for…

For immortality…

For pleasure…

For other things that he did not know yet…

In this illusion…lit only by the light of the moon, he was standing in front of a bed.

A bed that held the one…Subaru…in its wake.

He looked so peaceful…so innocent…as he always did.

And all Seishiro could think of was destroying the visage of innocence, of beauty, of perfection in all of its aspects.

All he could think of was breaking the image of calm.

All he could think of was taking it all away.

On the bed, Subaru had his back to him, his arms curled under a pillow, his face carrying the weight of a long day.

Seishiro looked to his left…and then to his right.

No creaks in the floorboards.

No lingering footsteps.

Nothing to interrupt them.

Cautiously, instinctively, stealthily, Seishiro crawled onto the bed, careful as not to wake the sleeping boy. Not yet anyway.

There was a glare against his right eye – the light never seemed to leave him, no matter where he left, even as he tried to conceal it.

He put a hand on the boy's bare back. At first lightly, and then putting more weight.

Nothing.

He loomed over the younger male, whose rhythmic breathing was more than enough to get him anxious, tingling almost, at the prospect of what he was going to do next.

He took something from his right pocket – a small knife, one that could be used to crack open safes, locks, the sort. The blade shined in the twilight moon's rays.

The knife in his hand, he traced a cut onto the boy's left cheek.

This was more than enough to wake the boy. At first he stirred somewhat, and then, feeling the weight of Seishiro's hand on his bare back, and then seeing the blood that was running down his face, his eyes burst open wide as he tried to get away from Seishiro's grasp. He wriggled and writhed as Seishiro put a hand on his mouth, silencing the boy's voice but not the quickening of his breath, the air hot on his hand. He slowly straddles the boy's back, and leaned until his lips could reach the boy's ear.

"Don't be afraid…it's only me…I've come back…"

Before Seishiro could do more, or before Subaru could resist, different flashes of different faces, different scenarios ran through his mind. In all of them, he was the perpetrator, the one who started everything, the one whose want for bliss was the means to an end.

He was the one that controlled them, instead of the other way around.

The face of the boy's brother, Kamui. The face of his former pupil, Syaoran. The face of his younger brother, Fuuma. The face of the magician, Fai. The face of the warrior that fought beside him, Kurogane. The face of the young girl, Sakura. The face of the older woman, Yuuko.

The face of his mother.

Setsuka.

She was the only one that could control him.

Not anymore.

In another flash, Seishiro woke up.

Sweat dripping from his brow, his chest heaving up and down.

The illusion…the dream…whatever it was…

It was over.

His mother…his mother was the one that could control him, who had…closed him.

But now…he had been opened…opened to a new world of wants and needs, and the people, the individuals…one in particular…who could fulfill them.


	19. Judgmental

XIX. Judgmental

There was a lot that would deem Seishiro and Fuuma as complete opposites.

While Fuuma basked in the glow of the light, Seishiro preferred the dark of the twilight. While Fuuma was more emotionally involved with others, Seishiro stayed away from them as much as possible.

Fuuma gave.

Seishiro took away.

The yin and the yang to each other, subconsciously.

There was one occurrence of this that stood out in Seishiro's memory, one instance in particular that proved this.

It wasn't too long ago, actually. It had been a sunny day, and the two were sitting on opposite side of a tree trunk, Fuuma in the sunlight, Seishiro in the shade. Sakura blossoms were afloat in the wind, only to finally fall onto the ground moments later. They happened to be discussing the other people in their lives – friends, and otherwise.

"You really don't get out much, do you?" Fuuma remarked, his sunglasses at the bridge of his nose.

Seishiro turned to him, speculative. "What makes you say that?"

Fuuma shrugged. "I dunno – you just don't seem like a people person. Plus you're pale as hell."

The hunter had to chuckle at that. He had a point. "I can't help it. It's in my nature – I don't believe I can do much about it. There are some troublesome things that come with being too much of a people person, you know."

"Don't I know it…but it's not all bad. Sure there are some things that can be bad, but you get past them and then you move on. You can get a lot of things from other people – a lot experience, a lot of laughs, a lot of memories…all that fun stuff. Then there's you – someone who is content in their own world, their own ascertains about people. You don't even care if something happens to someone else, good or bad. I don't mean to arbitrate but…you are not the easiest person to deal with."

This made Seishiro laugh even harder, so much that his shoulders started to shake, his eyes shut, and his ribs soon began aching. He had never heard of anything so silly. And yet it was accurate.

He had underestimated Fuuma.

Once he got his composure back, he looked at his younger brother out of the corner of his right eye, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Judgmental, much?"

Fuuma grinned. "Only as much as you, brother."


	20. Dancing

XX. Dancing

The world around them had transformed. It was no longer the world of Outo, where the people were simple and no one had any concrete or plausible to worry about other than getting through demons like sliced paper. No, they were now in the world of Edonis – the real world.

In a matter of seconds, Seishiro, the Interloper, had shattered their version of reality.

He was now at the top of one of his creations, a tall demon, looking down at the decaying ruins of Fairy Park, at the unlikely group of perplexed players below. One person in particular, the one named Kurogane, sparked his interest.

He could see the glow of Kurogane's eyes even from a distance; it was a fiery blaze, the perusal of one who delighted in the prospect of battle.

"Just stay here…I've got a score to settle with this guy." Throwing the white creature over his shoulder to the one named Souma, the warrior starts off, but the others start to protest as he leaves.

"Kuro-puu, what are you doing?"

"You can't fight here."

"Yeah, you're not the game anymore!"

"This is reality – there is no restarting here!"

"If you fight, you could actually die. Don't be a fool!"

The warrior stops in his tracks. Without looking back, he states, "What's the point of fighting if nothing's at stake? You guys go. I've got a promise to keep."

To himself he adds, "I promised the kid that he could fight him alone. But Syaoran is gone now. It's my turn to draw."

He didn't seem at all perturbed by the huge beast in front of him, nor did he of Seishiro. But that was about to change.

"Are you the one who had those demons attack the Cat's Eye?" Kurogane stated more than asked.

Seishiro replied calmly with "I am."

"What'd you do with the kid?"

"I'm afraid he's dead."

Pause.

The last word reverberated between them as soon as the cloaked man let it escape his lips.

Seishiro could not see an inch of movement on the warrior's face. No widening of the eyes. No collapse into tears. No weakness in the gait. No twitching.

Nothing.

He was a blank slate.

His eyes retained their hardness, maybe growing even more so.

It was abundantly clear…he was used to death.

Just as Seishiro was.

"Too bad." His voice was as hard as steel. Kurogane unsheathed his sword, and held it close to him. "'Cause now …it's your turn."

Kurogane sprung from the siding and sliced the air as Seishiro, apt as ever, flipped over, dodging the warrior's strike, plummeting down towards the broken roof of a former establishment, and landing at the same time as the other fighter.

"Quick with the sword, hunter. But you still missed me." Seishiro says as within a millisecond, in an ironic twist of fate, his tan robe slips off of his shoulders and splits into two, falling to his feet.

Kurogane looked up. "Looks like I didn't miss you completely, does it?"

Not even remotely fazed, Seishiro takes his glasses from his left breast pocket and puts them on. "Well this could be fun. It's been a long time since I've had a good fight." He put his right arm out and let the energies within him materialize into a sword.

In the distance, Seishiro could hear the disturbance of rubble as his demon struck the ground, leaving the group to flee in its wake.

With that, the two began to fight, one sword clashing against the other, again and again and again. Kurogane swoops in from the side, barely missing Seishiro as the bespectacled man flips in the air once again, as easily as if he had been using the molecules in it for support. The warrior swipes the ground below Seishiro's feet, again barely missing him, as Seishiro flips once more and lands, the warrior and he striking lances. They struggled against the efforts of the other, though their faces would say otherwise.

"Syaoran was carrying a sword when he died. I assume you were teaching him how to use it." Seishiro said, hoping to get a rise out of the fellow fighter.

"I showed him some things." Kurogane replied, his voice firm but showing pride in his pupil.

Seishiro blinked, and his eyes narrowed, a smile at his lips. A slithery demon took form from his sword, separating itself and aiming for the other warrior, who easily struck it down. Seishiro took control once again; his sword struck against Kurogane's a few more times, their forms strong and fluid in movement, until he then took a hold of Kurogane's hilt, grasping it firmly between his nimble fingers, feeling the etching in the hilt as his synapses reminded him of another familiar action. He could see the mix of surprise and annoyance in Kurogane's eyes from what he was doing.

"He was strong, and a lot quicker than before. You must have been quite a teacher."

Kurogane answered back, "He's a fast learner; you should remember that. You taught him how to fight – heck, you move just like the kid."

A flare of recognition and spite set itself in the pit of Seishiro's stomach. In an uncharacteristically childish move, he shifted his left foot somewhat, aiming to make the warrior lose his balance, but the other knew better as Kurogane repositioned his footing, aiming to strike his lance against Seishiro's head. Abandoning his sword for a quick moment, Seishiro gathered his energies and used them to push Kurogane back. Now Kurogane was befuddled and uncoordinated. In a spite second, Kurogane stood back up, his form at the ready for another go.

Seishiro towered over him from the ledge. Kurogane didn't defer. The tendril of Seishiro's sword tingled and writhed within his hand, aiming for the soldier before him, and his palms starting to sweat. It didn't matter though – this was something that needed to get done.

It was like a dance – one in which where the dancers constantly trying to outdo one another, showing their areas of expertise, their strengths, but inadvertently showing their weaknesses at the same time.

Kurogane spoke first. "There wasn't person left in my home world that was worth fighting. You're actually a decent opponent. Beating you should be the best challenge I've had in years."

Seishiro's left eye twitches. He had heard accolades about his fighting skills many times before. It got tiring after a while hearing how good he was from mediocre opponents, but this time, when Kurogane said this, he could feel a swelling feeling in his chest.

To further this, he replied, "Too bad about that curse you're under. That rather complicates things, doesn't it? You really want to do this?" He hears a breath from the fellow warrior. He continues, "Everytime you defeat someone you lose some of your own strength. A high price to pay, isn't it?"

Kurogane took his sword and held it in the typical fighting style a seasoned warrior would, tight in his grasp. "You already killed the wizard and the kid. Curse or no, I'm going to fight until one of us in the ground."

With that, Seishiro had his sword at the ready within seconds. "All right - Then let's get to it, I have more important things to do."

At once, in one seamless motion, the two warriors, who had both experienced the hunting and being hunted, rose into the air, their lances ready to strike the killing blow.

Suddenly, a burst of light appeared between them, blinding the two and settling them back to the ground, staring at the apparatus as the light disappeared and a stick with a note could be seen.

Kurogane picked it up, one of his eyebrows cocked confusingly. "What is this?" His tone was deemed incredulous. He looked over and saw the magician, the girl responsible for programming the game, the princess, the white creature that had been the source of the light, and Syaoran.

"Yoo-hoo! Kuro-puu! Hey!" Fai waved nonchalantly, welcoming the soldier.

Said soldier's eyes bugged open at the sight. "What the f-!" His face morphed into a look of irritation. "Someone better explain this."

His eyes hovered over the warrior, then to the group of the newly revived, and then to Syaoran. A grin tugged at Seishiro's lips. It was amusing to him just how Kurogane could easily lose his composure over his friends. It was amusing how anyone could really.

"Glad to see that you and the magician made it here safely. Memory back?"

Kurogane turned to Seishiro, no doubt confusion wrapping his brain. "You knew they were alive?"

"Outo wasn't real, Kurogane. It was just a dream." Syaoran stated.

The warrior grew more irritated and perplexed with every moment. "People keep saying that."

Seishiro's lance disappeared into thin air. "Too bad – looks like our fight's over, swordsman."

Kurogane defiantly kept his sword raised. "Oh we aren't done. We're finishing this."

"It was done when your friends arrived. With them alive, your thirst for my blood is gone."

Kurogane stayed silent, again with an eyebrow cocked upwards.

Seishiro straightened his posture, his eyes decisive. He knew what he must do.

"I came here to do one thing, and now I can."

For Seishiro, the supposed Interloper, the dancing of fates and the fanaticism behind it was easy to decipher. Controlling fate was a very different matter.


	21. Flower Garden

XXI. Flower Garden

As quickly as one battle ended, another endeavor was about to begin. Seishiro let the magic feather emerge from his body, the talisman bringing forth a strong burst of blue reverberating light as it levitated in his hand. The ground he was standing on breaks apart from the wall, from the prying eyes of those below, into a stalactite of rock. Now he was rising up into the sky, where finally, Seishiro's wish could be granted.

"Seishiro!" Syaoran yelled in vain, no doubt wondering what he was going to do with the feather.

It did not matter now.

Nothing mattered now.

At long last, he had finally found it.

"Yes! I've tracked you down! After all my searching, immortality is mine! Everyone, I would like you to meet the bearer of eternal life, the strongest demon there is!"

He could feel the restlessness in his voice, his body, his entire being consumed – it was absolutely electrifying.

So this was how it felt to get something he wanted, something that he tossed and turned nights dreaming about.

It felt…

Good.

So good.

A beam shoots from the ball of light that was now the feather, interrupting and producing a wave of energy. Those below had to hang onto their swords or each other in order not to get blown away from the explosion of air. One of Seishiro's previous demons evaporated into the nothingness that now permeated the world, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark energy – for another demon was about to take its place.

The feather sparked again and again in Seishiro's hand.

Soon another matter of dark energy took form, the air turning cold as the gargantuan demon rose above the ground, but with a hand outstretched. Almost as if…it had something there, something to show.

Seishiro noticed this, and realized. "It is such an honor to meet you. I've been looking forward to this deal. The time has come."

In the demon's hand was the form of a woman, clad in a black corset-style sleeveless dress, twilight laced gloves that ran past her elbow, and wild ebony hair. She wore a necklace in the styling of a cross near her bosom, as well as a black choker. She stood regally in the demon's hand, unfazed by the dilapidation and the wonder around her, like that of a shrine untouched by atom bombs. The woman truly was a sight to behold…a strongly familiar one at that.

The enigmatic woman winked, no doubt amused by her audience. "Hope I don't disappoint."

In midst of the excitement buzzing inside the vessel of his being, finally able to meet the one who could grant him the one thing he desired, Seishiro could hear the comments of surprise from down below.

"Wait - The A-1 Demon is a woman?" Syaoran exclaimed, disbelief in his voice.

The warrior was bewildered as well. "It's the woman from the club."

The boy turned to his teacher. "So you've seen her before?"

The girl and the magician were amazed as well. The girl known as Sakura exclaimed, "It can't be…"

The magician replied by saying, "You knew her too?"

There was a pause as Seishiro took all of this in. They must have no idea who they were facing…no idea of the magnitude, the importance of this one person.

It was all so ironic that the one individual, the one being who could give so much to him, open so many doors, was a woman.

"So that's the source of all this destruction – the power to turn dreams into reality?" The woman noted, addressing both the feather and its holder.

"That's right," Seishiro replied. "It's because of this little feather here that I can finally meet you face to face – she with the power to grant eternal life, the A-1, the ultimate demon."

The feather sparked once more, and then a few more times, almost erupting in Seishiro's grasp. His eyes widened as the feather's rays of light multiplied en masse, creating a sakura tree in one corner of Fairy Park, and an aged museum in another corner. The power of this talisman was going haywire – but why?

"Just as I thought," the figure's voice oozed with a satisfaction that proved all too familiar to Seishiro's ears. "You are not able to control the feather's power, are you, Interloper?"

Said Interloper chucked inwardly. "Can tell, can you?"

"Yes." She looked into the crowd, spotting one person in particular. "After all, I know who the feather belongs to."

The talisman flickered again as the establishment known as the Cat's Eye suddenly appears in a pink haze of light. The sign regarding it falls at Syaoran's feet. Clearly the business, though short lived, meant something to him, as well as the rest of his friends. It was funny how one thing could mean so much.

"If you just wanted to meet me, you didn't have to be so dramatic about it. You could have just played the game like everyone else." The woman says to Seishiro.

He replies by stating, "It's true. I could have." There is a lingering edge to his voice.

"Had you gone inside the Dream Capsule and sign up as a demon hunter, eventually you would have reached the game, where there was no one left to fight but me. After all that's how the game works. If you keep getting stronger and stronger, you will eventually face the strongest of demons."

"Yes, but that would have taken a great deal of time." His right eye flashes. "And time is the one thing that I don't have enough of."

Demons emerge from the woodwork, bursting with great force from the inside of buildings, and start attacking the group of fighters, who are able to fend them off with a mix of technique and vigor.

It is not known until later that Syaoran had started climbing up the side of one of the amusement park's attractions, the Ferris wheel, with great focus. He loses his grip once, almost plummeting to the ground until he grabs onto another spoke – a gruesome fate was averted. At least for now.

"Well, I guess I don't have any right to complain. After all, when these promising new demon hunters first appeared in Outo, I took advantage of your strange entrance into this world to hide my identity from them."

"You told them I was the demon they sought?"

"Yes, I did. It's true that I met a handsome young man who had the ability to control the demons. However, it turns out that that man… wasn't really a demon himself."

"And you – not only did you play the role of the A-1 demon in the game, you're also alive in the real world, correct?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And are you the _same_ in real life as you are in the game?"

"No." The woman declared firmly.

Seishiro continues, his speculative mind ever whirring, it gears working into overdrive. "Is it true – this rumor that you are able to grant a person eternal life?"

"Indeed."

"Excellent –then let's get right to the point." Though careful not to show it, there was a unsettled feeling in Seishiro's stomach – the uncertainty of just what lay ahead, of just where the scale of fate would tip, and in who's favor.

"I've learned your real name outside the game."

A breath.

"Subaru. Correct?"

The woman blinks once, and then closes her eyes. "You're wrong." There is no sign of remorse in the words she utters.

Seishiro stood firm, almost clutching onto the feather in his hand, even though there was a whole mix of emotions welling up inside him. Of course – it was all too good to be true.

Mother was right.

A flash blinds him once more, and suddenly he is back at his childhood home, in the backyard to be precise. All at once, his senses are overwhelmed.

The hovering smell of flora in the air.

The slick touch of grass kissed by dew under his hands.

The fresh, sweet taste that had appeared in his mouth.

The noise of crickets and birds chirping.

The sight of the dozens and dozens of flowers littered amongst the red shrine before him, gold ornaments hanging from the many prayers that held it.

He looks around, and, after processing it for a few moments, realizes just exactly where he is.

In his mother's flower garden.

Where it all started.


	22. Truthfully

XXII. Truthfully

Yes…he knew where he was.

He had spent many hours here with his mother. Fuuma was usually off doing something else, being a normal individual whilst he was left to placate his mother, her happy-go-lucky voice incessant in his ears, told him stories of the Sakura tree, of the Sakurazukamori and what their goal was in this life, and what exactly would happen once that goal was achieved. She also told him stories of how sweet blood smelled once it was exposed to the midnight air, how camellias were her favorite flower, and how the sound of decapitated heads amused her.

There were times that he wondered if Setsuka was really his mother. She behaved so much as if she was just a friend, or a companion to Seishiro more than acting like his mother.

As if…she was courting him.

Then again, his mother had always been an enigma to him.

Her smile could brighten up a room, raise everyone's spirits, and with one word she could send the unsuspecting plummeting back down.

She was hopelessly devoted to the ways of the Sakurazukamori – so much so that it often clouded her judgment, as well as whom she sought as her partner, in crime and in other ways.

It is because of her that for most of his life, Seishiro had learned to be devoted to no one.

Seishiro lay down on the dew-kissed grass, his arms crossed in an x-position over his eyes, hiding them from the blinding sun that had made its way through the clouds. Every now and then the wind blew across the garden, moving the flowers and the leaves of the sakura ever so slightly, that a rain of petals would wash over him, away from the majestic branches that stood so proudly, landing on his face, his body, and he would not move an inch.

In this position, he would have accomplished just what his mother always wanted.

He remembered her smile – subtext within each of them, almost as if she was always imagining what to do with him, suggestive in every sense. They were carried by lips dyed with the color of blood, the life essence of those that were sacrificed to the sakura tree that loomed over him at this very moment, the lips that would stop to kiss Seishiro passionately on the mouth at a moment's notice. They hid the teeth that nibbled at Seishiro's ears, his neck, the space between said neck and his shoulder.

He remembered her touch – despite her open (sometimes too much so) nature, her hands stayed cold and detached, nimble fingers wandering where they shouldn't, the iciness, the lingering enough to make his insides quake.

He remembered her words – enthusiastic, abbreviated, changing tone with milliseconds, painting the world in shades of black and white.

Chaos within the order.

Order within the chaos.

"I want you to take my soul away…"

"I choose to live this way…"

"I know you'll never share my point of view…"

Those words haunted Seishiro, though he'd never dare show it. It would not matter anyway.

For the longest time, even before he came to realize the person he had been with for so long was actually his mother, the concept was beneath him. He didn't have any interest of what exactly his mother was, her background, how she came to meet his father, where his father was now…

None of it mattered in the end.

"You're my child."

This utterance as well struck him – when he thought about it, it was as if his heart, whatever shape it was in at the moment, was squeezed with a vice. It was an unusual feeling – one that he was not used to.

He was not used to being tied to someone, as well as being tied to their fate.

"I love you."

No one else had said that to him either. She had said it so freely, without ramification or thought to them – she said it automatically.

She had wanted him to kill her, to continue the pact that members of the clan made – that they would be killed by the person who loved them the most.

"Kill me Seishiro…please."

It was finally, in the middle of the night when Seishiro had just turned fifteen, that he killed her. He had been looming over her, their forms close, the fate shared by the two of them inevitable.

Her wish had been granted.

Her blood had pooled between his fingers, escaping around her body, like that of the petals of the camellia flowers that she loved so much. He was relishing every second that his mother was losing the life essence, as she was in losing her life, a smile gracing her features as she died.

He had kissed her when she died…but…he felt nothing.

He didn't feel anything towards her death…her life…nothing.

Now Mother was nothing more than an object – her fate signed to that of her son, her partner, her lover.

She was nothing more than something that had been broken.

It made sense that the Sakurazukamori would die happy – if killed by those they loved and buried underneath the Sakura tree…just as his mother was buried now.

On impulse, he could feel one of his hands moving away, the shade that it as well as the rest of his arm leaving him, exposing him to the sunlight. He closed his eyes quickly as the hand moved downwards towards his groin. His fingers pass over the area of his crotch, a vast pulsation going through him as he closed his eyes even tighter, the sun's rays completely gone from his frame of vision. At all of these thoughts running through his head, those relating to his mother and otherwise, there was now a velvet hardness underneath the cloth of Seishiro's pants.

Without hesitation, his nimble fingers clutched his arousal, and now his mind was in a complete, irrevocable haze of pleasure, a haze of nothingness and yet of everything.

Eventually he succumbed to the heat that enveloped his body, enjoying himself immensely and perversely as the high ended, leaving him to slowly open his eyes once more and gaze at the beauty that permeated each sakura leaf that greeted him.

In another flash of light, he could feel himself hover higher and higher above the Sakurazukamori tree, the flower garden that it inhabited, and the spirit of his mother still with him, even after all of this time, after all of the years of detachment and wanting.

Truthfully…he could have stayed there forever.

But he would come back.…in due time.


	23. Lies

XXIII. Lies

Slowly he opens his dark orbs, and looks around. He is back in Edonis, the world in which he helped destroy. The mysterious woman in front of him is no longer the visage of his dear mother Setsuka, but the woman who was also the A-1 Demon he had sought, hoping that she was the one person who could make all the difference in the world for him, and yet not.

Slowly, he was delving back into reality – whatever reality this was, anyway.

His eyes narrowed. "Now…there is another sort of monster I'm hunting. Do you know of the vampire twins?" His gaze shifted, the light reflecting off of his glasses switching from his left eye to his right.

"Never heard of them."

Again, he showed no sign of disappointment, at least on the outside. "Too bad, I was wrong about that too."

"I'm sorry that I didn't meet your…approval."

The light escaped him. He lowered his head somewhat. "If the vampire twins aren't here, there is no reason for me to stay." He replied to the woman, placating her.

The woman senses this. "Oh. Leaving so soon?"

"Yes."

"Before you go, do you think you could do something about this…mess?" The woman said, in regards to the destruction of both the amusement park and otherwise.

"After I've left, reality should begin to stabilize. However…the demons that have manifested will likely to remain."

This time, there was an edge of a scolding tone to the woman's voice. "Then it is not only the park that is in danger. The whole world of Edonis is threatened too. Demons are products of the imagination. To beat them in the real world would be too difficult. Near impossible."

Once again he is reminded of someone familiar. Seishiro knew this. "Difficult…but I doubt you need to worry. You're not alone - Syaoran can help you fight."

As if on cue, Syaoran calls once more, "Seishiro."

The aforementioned hunter turns, and sees Syaoran standing above him, precariously at the top of the Ferris wheel.

"I need that power source. I'm searching for those feathers – that's the whole reason I'm here." The young man declares with an impossible stubbornness and dedication in his tone.

A gust of wind rolls past the two, a surge of memories passing between them.

Seishiro can see what the boy wants. And he decides to give it to him.

He closes his eyes. "So you plan to fight me, then?"

There is now firmness in the boy's eyes. "All I know about fighting I learned from you, Seishiro. They're your moves." He closed the shutters of his eyes as well, hiding the shine of his amber orbs. "So I'm positive you know them better than I do. I made a promise – to get those feathers no matter what."

Seishiro opens his eyes as Syaoran holds onto his sheathed sword, clutching it in his outstretched hand – there is now a wavering in his stance. A short wavering, but a wavering nonetheless. He looks over to his present master with the same uncertainty and hope for approval as the times when he had been Seishiro's student, the one known as Kurogane, who narrows his eyes in his direction. With that, he continues.

"I'm still not skilled enough to use this sword – I realize that too. But if I don't draw it, then I'll have no chance at all. There's no choice."

Good for his word, Syaoran carefully pulls the thread that has kept the sword in its sheath for this long, and finally takes it out, revealing it, as well as the fiery energy that lines it, the heat of the flame no doubt unveiling the wielder's true spirit.

"If this gives me the slightest chance of beating you… then I'm going to take it!"

Syaoran lunges towards Seishiro, the brightest of flames in his eyes as he aims for his former teacher's head. Sadly, said teacher must disappoint the boy, as he closes his eyes, and without much effort, he flips into the air, dodging Syaoran's attack, and lands on a nearby slab of rock as Syaoran does the same, his eyes wide with a bewildered anger. The boy turns and points the sword back at Seishiro. Deep down, Seishiro knew their battle was moot. Spirited as his attack was, as much vigor as it contained, Syaoran just didn't stand a chance.

At least…not yet.

There were times, in his lessons with Syaoran, that he told him just what he wanted to hear, just to placate the young boy, to give him something to help him sleep at night – he would not be a good student if he didn't at least want to try. There were also times when he told the truth to the little one – there was no point to keeping him away from what was inevitable. That he knew without fail.

If there was any time to tell him the truth, to tell him what he knew was absolutely certain, it was now.

"A sword of flame – that really does fit you. I'm sure that you'll become stronger with time, Syaoran, much stronger considering the obstacles that no doubt lie ahead of you. And even if the treasures you find were not the ones you were looking for when you began this journey, your strength is the thing that will support you…guide you."

It is clear that Syaoran is skeptical with his words – he had every right to be, considering everything Seishiro had done to him. If only he knew just how much he could really take…

"Just give me the feather."

With that, it was now Seishiro's cue to exit. His right eye shined once more, but this time, in the flash of light, another took its place, a symbol that grew within his eye, a circle with the markings of the Dimensional Witch's own insignia, activating his new ability. A blue light with the same emblem shined from underneath him, a portal in which he was making his departure.

"If this is what you're searching for, my pupil – then I'm sure that we'll meet again someday soon. Till then…"

The seal's power starts closing in, commencing to envelop Seishiro in its wake, to transport him to another world as Syaoran defiantly, and desperately, yells,

"Seishiro, wait!"

He jumps forth, to try and stop the foreseeable. He stretches his hand out, but only for the feather he seeks. As he gets closer and closer, the seal Seishiro is encased in grows ever faster, enveloping him in a mix of blue and gold.

For now he has this to say. "You take care…Syaoran."

The seal finally takes him away from one of the only people who truly cared about him, who resorted to any sort of emotional ties with him, and thrusts him into the catacombs of the time continuum, but not before he leaves a small portion of the feather's powers behind, if only for the purpose of letting Syaoran advance in his abilities.

They will meet again someday. It was inevitable, predictable.

It was then that Seishiro realized – he had told many lies to many people, for the sole purpose of advancing his own desires and wants and needs. This time was no different – even in the truths that he told to the boy, there had been semblances of lies, false promises.

This time though…he had told very few lies to Syaoran. They had been few and far between.

But no matter.

For now there was the question of what to do next.


	24. Gone

XXIV. Gone

Time passed.

It passed slowly, but it went on as it always did.

Time had never perplexed Seishiro in the past – it was predictable. It made the waiting tiresome and the expectant edgy. It confused people. Until now, Seishiro had not let the ever flowing concept known as time get to him.

But now…there was not enough of it.

Because of the limit put on him by the Dimensional Witch, on how many worlds he could travel before the vision in his right eye disappeared completely, he had to make use of the time he had in the worlds that he ventured, using every resource to his advantage. In the beginning, while he had been true to his own word, and doing whatever he could to find the vampire twins, perusing dated books like they were the Bible. But that didn't mean that he couldn't make some mischief of his own, to make his mark on the world that he had visited and to let everyone know that they were predictable beings without ever saying it to their faces.

He understood that the Dimensional Witch was teaching him something, taking something away from him in return for her services. All her lesson did, in retrospective, was to make him want to find the vampire twins even more. The want consumed him, his every thought and emotion, directly tied to them and his quest to find them.

Once he had found the vampire twins, he could become immortal, and further explore what he had known his entire life.

One of them in particular stood out in his mind.

Subaru…the one who…

In this past world…the world of Outo…it was then that he really understood.

He didn't truly care about anyone.

At least…that's what he thought.

He had hidden his own emotional center for so long; it was as if he didn't have one.

No conscience.

No guilt over anything.

No heart.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

He was taught not to feel anything. And he truly didn't feel anything.

He was a ghost in that way. Anything resembling an emotion appeared tacked on, genuine to others.

He was taught to be that way. He was taught to be a sociopath – all of humanity was a nuisance to him, because they were able to express everything that he couldn't.

Any shred of humanity that he had was gone.

It had been gone for some time.


	25. Bones

XXV. Bones

The answers lie in Nihon.

This is what Seishiro realized.

Of the worlds that he had yet to travel, Nihon appeared to be the one with the most semblances of answers.

Like before, when he first disembarked in Nihon, a whisk of air and water following him, he had arrived under a huge sakura tree not unlike the one in the garden of his childhood home. That proved to be a sign.

Needless to say that there were many others who were by no means pleasantly surprised to see him, given all of the damage he had done in Outo. It looked like the start of a lovely reunion; everyone he had come in contact with so far on his quest was there:

Syaoran and his group of friends – the sleeping princess Sakura, the white bunny creature Mokona, the warrior Kurogane, and the magician Fai.

Fuuma – his younger brother was there as well, with what looked like a glass casing at his side, no doubt the source of Kurogane's new arm.

There were others that he did not know, or care to remember, such as the priestesses Amaterasu and her younger sister Tomoyo, as well as her guard Souma, whom he recognized from Outo.

They had all changed from their times in the country of Outo – they had experienced turbulence, trauma in their hearts and souls, things that had shaken them to the very cores of their beings, Syaoran's group in particular. They had no doubt become stronger since then.

They were no longer nuisances.

Everyone had their hackles up once Seishiro made his entrance, being sure to protect those who were important to them.

And for good reason.

He had sensed something important. He came for answers. And he was going to get them no matter the cost.

They would have been surprised to see that his right eye was now like that of a glass complexion.

" 'It's been a while' is what I would like to say, but I don't know how long it has been for you since time flows differently between worlds." He remarked.

"You haven't changed a bit, Seishiro." Fuuma was the first to speak to him.

"Neither have you, Fuuma."

The two exchanged polite smiles, as politely as the offspring of a dysfunctional family could.

Seishiro turned to Kurogane, Fai, and Tomoyo. "Though I can't say the same for you guys. You guys changed quite a bit – in many ways."

Paying attention to Fai in particular, he states, "You seem to have lost your magical power but acquired a new power in its place…"

His senses heightened, his battle stance at the ready, he continued by saying, "The blood of a vampire."

This had finally confirmed what he'd always known.

He brought an arm out, and with his hand outstretched, he grabbed Fai's neck and squeezed as hard as he could, the mage throwing his head back in response to the spontaneous reaction, struggling to breathe as Seishiro's grip became even tighter. There were shouts and cries of protest as this occurred, but that didn't matter – the pity and outrage of many did not outweigh his need for information right then and there. He had felt the lives of many slip and fall away between his fingers, the pulsation of his lifeblood underneath his hands, and the mage would be no exception.

"I presume it is Kamui's blood, isn't it?" Seishiro said as he continued his intense grip on the magician's neck.

Struggling for air, no doubt his entire body thirsty for it, Fai stated defiantly, an edge to his voice, "And if it is?"

This struck a chord with Seishiro. He did not like this new attitude of the mage's. He asked again, this time his tone more malicious in intent. "Where are Kamui and Subaru?"

His eyes, one glass and the other violet, narrowed in a mix of contempt and curiosity, wondering what Fai would do next. The magician's newly golden orbs thinned as well, a new boldness evident in them. Before, the magician had fought him, but there was not as much effort, no means of fighting for his life as he was at this moment.

He truly had changed.

Fai began to fall backward in Seishiro's grasp, and then, without warning, he flew upward, using his legs to kick the priest's arms away, and as he did so, tried kicking them again, but this time Seishiro drew his arms up defensively. He flipped in the air once, and landed gracefully on the ground.

There was a bit of idle chatter before he heard the warrior bark, "You think that's the way to act when you're asking someone a question?"

The magician turned to the warrior, fully composed, and asked in a tone like that of a mischievous child, "You should tell _him_."

"Shaddup!"

The sister priestesses simultaneously agreed, "Absolutely."

"Uh huh." The white rabbit creature chimed in.

"I said Shaddup!" The warrior shouted back at them, his face red with embarrassment.

Seishiro straightened up, a light chuckle coming from him. "How rude of me - Then let me try again. You appear to have met the vampire twins."

The wizard answered, "In another world – called Tokyo."

There was no mistaking that the name of this place meant something to the mage, as well as the rest of Syaoran's group.

"Are those two still in Tokyo?"

"Nope," Fuuma responded quickly, "Those two left after these guys moved on with their journey."

"Where?" Seishiro snapped back, feeling especially irritated.

Unfazed by his older sibling's retort, Fuuma replied with some levity, "Do you really think they would tell that to your little brother?"

This also meant that Seishiro had missed another opportunity. He quickly converted from his frustrated disposition to that of slightly masking it with a sardonic smile.

"It is said that Hunters are naturally drawn to their prey. But it seems that the ones that I wish to find continue to elude me."

A slight pause.

Seishiro looks up at the leaves of the sakura tree above him, an uncommon wistfulness growing inside of him. There was something to be said about the chances that he missed – they often led him to new discoveries, new dimensions that before he would never have come across.

Discoveries about his past…

His present…

…About Subaru… the one he…

But as quickly as it came, the look he adopted earlier faded into that of a purposeful one, his violet orbs now focused on his next route.

The ruins of yesterday would become the bones of tomorrow.


	26. Soldier

XXVI. Soldier

"Well then, time to move on to the next world."

Like before, the mystic seal appears in Seishiro's right eye, and another, a larger one, appears below him preparing to take him to his next world, when suddenly he hears,

"Wait!"

He turns, and the voice comes from his former pupil, who now stands in front of the sakura tree, his eyes firm with an unrealized steadfastness, unseen before.

As the seal disappears, Seishiro asks, his voice surprisingly quiet, "You're also called Syaoran, yes?"

Syaoran does not waver. "Where is the feather?

Seishiro moves his hand towards his chest. "Right here." As soon as the words escape him, the feather appears in a heavenly ray of light in his hand.

"Give it back."

A glint in Seishiro's eye appeared. There was clearly more to Syaoran's desire for the feather than he had realized before. It was as if his want for it was only heightened by time.

"Back in Outo country, which actually turned out to be Edonis, I obtained the feather there and left in somewhat of a hurry. But it has the power to turn an entire fictional world into reality. Do you really think I can simply hand it over to you?"

Syaoran's expression stayed indignant.

"Give it back." He repeats, this time with a stronger force, as he puts his fists together and summons his sword of fire, unveiling it.

"I suppose we can't just talk this over." Seishiro replied, impressed by Syaoran's powerful lance.

"I have been watching you for the longest time, and I see what kind of person you really are."

"Through the eyes of your other self, yes?"

At this, a gust of wind powers itself around Syaoran, fully enabling him for a fight. But no matter. Seishiro had come prepared.

"That aspect of yours really is like your fathers." Seishiro responded by forming a bird-like demon from his palm, and then having it unveil his own sword in turn. 

"Though maybe that's because you are your father's son."

Syaoran was already in his battle stance, as Seishiro plucked his glasses from his left pocket, putting them on as he said, "Well then…"

"Wait."

Seishiro and Syaoran turn to the older priestess, whose firm speech had stopped them from fighting.

"If you decide to battle further, then the Shirasagi castle would collapse." She motions toward her younger sister, who, with a helpful expression, forms a bright light from the palms of her hands, having it stretch out towards the ends of the castle, engulfing the two soldiers into what could only be described as another world littered with stalagmites and stalactites.

The two stand on one as they prepare for a melee.

"Ah…this would be called a kekkai. With this, we can do whatever we want and it will have no effect on reality. Wounds, on the other hand, are an entirely different story. What you experience here will also as if you experienced them in the real world. There is no changing that."

Syaoran nods in agreement.

"Well then, shall we begin?"

At once, the former pupil lunges at his master, but Seishiro is ready. The two clash swords repeatedly, over and over again until Syaoran decides to use his leg to knock Seishiro off balance. Clearly this won't do, as Seishiro blocks his attack, using that same leg to hurl Syaoran in the distance, having him land at the wall of one of the stalagmites. Seishiro sprints forth and cuts that same stalagmite in half, Syaoran quickly evading the sword as he tried to catch his breath.

Seishiro was quick behind him, transporting himself first in front of his former student, then next to him, behind, and finally in front of him once again as he delivered a strong blow to Syaoran's stomach and twisted his foot in the vermin's gut. He could almost feel the shudder that went through Syaoran as he coughed up blood, the essence staining the edges of his mouth, chin, and his shirt. He showed no mercy as numerous tendrils grew on his sword, almost hungrily impaling the nuisance's body, sending him high into the air, suspended for a few short moments, dragging out his misery until finally Seishiro sends Syaoran onto the hard rock below him, no doubt having passed out from the pain endured.

Seishiro lands on the stalactites next to the one his victim fell onto. Indeed, he had showed no mercy towards his former pupil. He didn't deserve it in the very least. He takes his glasses off as he states aloud, "Well then…it's time to go."

The seal in his eye appears as it had many times over, reflecting another seal underneath him. He smiled to himself, satisfied in the work that he had done, before something took Seishiro by surprise.

"Stop!"

He turned, his eyes wide, and saw that Syaoran, the vermin, was standing now. It appeared that the kid had a death wish. The seal goes away as quickly as it came.

"I'm not done yet."

Seishiro's violet orbs thinned. He put his glasses back on. "So it seems."

Syaoran held his sword close to his form, his right hand hovering over it as he stated, "Whatever it takes – I will get the feather back!" At the top of his lung, he shouts out his new attack:

"_**Raitei Shourai!" **_

An electric current immediately grows and multiplies, aiming towards Seishiro. But Seishiro is not perturbed by this – he smiles wickedly as he forms a barrier around himself using the mystical talisman known as the feather. The barrier goes back into the feather a moment later. There is a shine to Seishiro's glass eye as he chuckles quietly to himself.

This fight was not meant to last long.

"That attack just now could have been dangerous." He says to the nuisance, his voice treacherously low.

At once, Syaoran jumps towards Seishiro, shouting "Give it back!" as he reached for the feather with all of his might, the feather glowing bright in Seishiro's grasp until the illusion of the kekkai breaks around the two, revealing themselves back near the sakura tree, almost hovering as Seishiro lands back on the ground with the rest of the onlookers as Syaoran finally takes a hold of the feather, only for it to erupt with a bright cacophony of color around him. He struggles to keep the feather in his fisted hand as the rainbow of color continues to encircle him and the body of the sleeping girl still in the sakura tree, now brown tendrils surrounding him, almost as if trying to take him to another place.

"Kid!" The warrior shouts, his tone scolding and angry.

"Syaoran-kun!" The magician yells from concern.

"Syaoran!" The white rabbit creature cries whilst perched on Fuuma's shoulder.

"Don't worry – I'll come back together with Sakura." Syaoran yells over the noise of the whistling wind that immediately whisks him and the girl away, to another place that is unknown to the rest of the group, Seishiro included.

It was none of his concern where Syaoran was, or where he was being taken to. He was not his responsibility.

But there was no mistaking the alien sense of pride that he felt inside – his pupil really had improved greatly since the last time he had fought.

He had truly become a soldier in his own right.


	27. Water

XXVII. Water.

Seishiro looked up at the glass roof of the Shirasagi Castle, high above the sakura tree where inside Syaoran and his other half were battling, no doubt for the feather and Sakura's hand. The clouds moved quickly, thusly, as if they had somewhere to go. For a moment, it looked as if he was staring at the reflection of the sky on a pond's surface, deep ripples already making their impact.

Also in that split second, he wondered if Fuuma, who had been standing next to him, saw the same thing he did.

He put his glasses away, not even caring that one of the lenses was cracked. "It wasn't easy after all."

Fuuma looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "You see, I agree with you this time."

The older brother straightened up, closed his eyes, and smiled, pleased with himself.

The younger brother's apathetic gaze softened. "You were planning to hand over the feather to that guy from the beginning?"

"Who knows?" Seishiro stated, once again not giving a straight answer.

Fuuma sighed tiredly, exasperated. "You're one screwed up guy. Right after you find someone interesting, you start teasing him." He too straightened up, stretching his right arm out. "That's why those twins are running from you. It was kind of troublesome that Kamui didn't like me either."

Seishiro turned to his younger sibling, who was ironically taller than he. "That's just what you deserved, right?"

Fuuma responded by saying, "Who knows?"

In a flash, his pleasant disposition changes into one of incredible focus and curiosity, staring out in the distance.

"However, I hope that he makes it back safe."

Seishiro understands who exactly Fuuma is talking about. He opens his eyes, one of watery glass complexion, the other like that of a purple diamond, looking in the same direction as his brother. Opposites within a single entity.

"It might be harder than it seems."

The ripples along the water's edge truly held a deep significance in this case.


	28. Fire

XXVIII. Fire

The dilapidation in Syaoran's eyes was inevitable.

If there was anything that Seishiro knew for certain, it was that disappointment and strife were predictable human emotions.

When Syaoran recalled the true identity of his beloved, Seishiro felt nothing.

When said beloved fell into the clone's arms, the sakura blossoms of her being disappearing as if by witchcraft, his cries of anguish and unspeakable torment fell upon the hunter's deaf ears.

The truth was that he had been in awe of what he had witnessed. It had a long time since Seishiro had seen anyone under such distress, such primeval instincts ripping at the core of someone, with he as a spectator – even as his eyes were wide with disbelief, his body wrapped under the same bone-crushing blackness that had enveloped the other onlookers, he could not help but feel exhilarated by the horror that had taken place.

There was nothing like it.

The feeling when your entire world was slipping through your fingers.

The sinking feeling in your stomach when something horrific has occurred.

The tremendous weight of emotion writhing under the surface, kicking and screaming to be released, only to finally be released in such duress of passion that it was deemed masochistic.

Seishiro knew the blaze of such emotion.

He had experienced it himself, and in turn he had given that experience to so many people.

That was because the people, those who were supposed to be human beings, who predictably had no idea of their own fates, deserved it.

They needed to feel it so that they knew that they were alive.

He had felt it.

So should they.

They should feel the crushing disappointment, the gradual deadness of self, the deadening of the soul that he had felt many times before.

In this, as soon as they realized this, Seishiro would end their lives. Prolonged misery was not in his taste for those who were not worth it.

It was soon after the girl had been taken away by the black-haired bespectacled minion of Fei Wong Reed that he realized this: The fire of destruction was moving quickly, lighting the spokes of the wheel of destiny aflame.

Without saying goodbye to anyone, not even his brother who he had recently uncovered to be someone not quite as foolish as he surmised for most of his life, he left.

The flames of the fire in his cold being licked him continuously – he had to go.

He was not needed there – he would not find the vampire twins there.

He had to go elsewhere.

It was the fire of it all that had exhilarated him, which would eventually lead him to his prize, and which left him scorched, burned, and wanting more.


	29. Choice

XXIX. Choice

Fate had intervened that day – the day when Seishiro first met Subaru.

The sakura leaves blew into the night sky, abandon freeing them into the winds of kismet.

He had just killed a little girl – she couldn't have been a day over nine years. She had been wandering out late at night, all by herself, without anyone to supervise. Seishiro considered that killing one of mercy, saving her from no doubt abusive parents who didn't care where she was at all hours of the night.

It would only be a few moments later when out of the corner of his eye, he could see a young boy – small wiry frame, a mess of black hair, and a withstanding innocence in his green eyes that accompanied his cherubic face. He had a look of shock and confusion on his face, but it didn't last long as he tried to exorcise the illusionary tree that hovered over Seishiro and the dead girl, stopping it from consuming the corpse's body.

This had surprised the hunter – it had also struck a chord of curiosity inside of him as well – something he had not experienced for a long time.

He had taken the boy's hands into his hands. He had looked deeply into the boy's emerald eyes, as if absorbing every last detail of his young soul.

With this, he had told the boy the absolute truth.

"_If you and I should ever meet again, let us live together for one year. My heart is the direct inverse of yours... you are kind, pure, and honest. And I'm sure that is how you will continue to grow up. Your heart will remain pure. So, if we should ever meet again, I will try my hardest to learn to love you. Just for one year... and after that year, if I can consider you "special", you will have won and I will not kill you. But if I decide that I cannot consider you special to me - if I cannot distinguish the difference between you and that corpse, then... I will kill you. And so today... I will let you go." _

He had kissed the back of the boy's hands, leaving pentagrams, tokens of his affections on them, and had walked away, leaving a baffled child in his wake.

He had come home, or the place that was designed to be his home, feeling an immeasurable, unimaginable ambiance around him, caressing him, taking him and giving him what he had never had.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt – he felt a fascination with this young boy and with this fascination, an eventual desire grew exponentially.

He wanted to do things to the boy.

He wanted the boy to do things to him.

It was if he had been drawn to the boy from the very beginning, that everything he had been through, every moment he had suffered at the hands of others, as well as his own hands, had been all so he could meet this one boy.

They had been fated together.

There was no mistaking that.

But he…

He had chosen Subaru as his own.

"I chose you."

In the distant past, he had admitted this to himself. Afterwards, he had closed himself off again.

If in fact, he had ever opened himself up in the beginning.

Now he was going to say it again.

Proudly.

And he would immortalize the words.

"I chose _you_."


	30. Stormier

XXX. Stormier

"Subaru…so good to see you again. It's been a while."

Even though his outer composure was calm and collected, as he said those words, Seishiro could feel his energy building inside of his body, his depraved, long awaiting body, like the ingredients of a chemical potion finally coming together.

Things had finally fallen into place.

He had originally vowed to travel to the ends of the universe to find Subaru, as well as his vampiric twin, and gain immortality. That was the cut and dry version that he had subscribed himself to.

But in this wish, his grand design, he was to give up his right eye. With each world he traveled to, the sight in the violet orb dissipated and dissipated until finally, in the last world, the world of the twilight, the world of Tokyo, he lost the vision completely. Now that his vision had disappeared into the stained glass, the vessel of his right eye, he was certain that he would find the vampire twins.

And he had.

He had tracked them back to Tokyo – this was where Fuuma had told him not to go. But Fuuma knew that he would venture there anywhere – they were brothers anyway – the same wavelength would follow them always.

The ruins of the buildings and roads, dilapidation abound, seemed appropriate. It seemed to symbolize him in a way – the disrepair, the damage, the collapse that he left behind in each of the worlds he had been to, in each of the people he had interacted with.

He didn't even bat an eye when he finally found the two, perched amongst the wreckage, the former glory of what was and what was to be, late into the night.

He leaned against one of the light poles, arms crossed, the electricity flickering on and off, the shadow that seemed to follow Seishiro wherever he went coming and going within a flash.

They turned – Subaru's eyes were widened with expectant fear, and Kamui had pounced in front of his brother, his orbs turning a vampiric gold and his nails growing into that of talons.

"You-! Stay away from Subaru!" He growled at the hunter, the one that had hurt them so much in the past. "Or so help me, I-"

Subaru, shaking slightly, put a cautious hand on Kamui's shoulder, making him turn his head in his direction, looking directly in the other boy's now-golden orbs. "Please, brother – it is all right. I will talk to him, but that is all."

The older brother spat back, "But Subaru! H-h-he..."

Seishiro felt a small grin paint his face. Even after all this time, it was still amusing to see the effect he had on people, especially on this individual.

Kamui paused for a moment, no doubt trying to figure out what to do with the bastard in front of him. He lowered his talons for hands, his eyes slit as he moved slightly, so that Subaru would walk in front of him.

Subaru walked steadily, his gait betraying a slight tremor appearing every now and then, before he finally stopped in front of Seishiro, his brows furrowed, his fists clenched next to his form.

It was nice to see his prey present himself for him.

His smile grew wider.

"We have much to talk about…Subaru. It has been a long time since we've discussed anything face to face." Seishiro stated, a memory brimming into the edges of his mind. It had been too long…

Subaru's eyes thinned somewhat. "That's because…last time…you killed our…my…older sister Hokuto." Another tremor. "And…you tried to kill Kamui. And me."

Seishiro felt a jolt of recollection reverberate in his mind.

Ah yes…

"_**Why did you do that?" **_

The blood of the older sister suddenly ran his own cold – it was not until then before he realized –

Hokuto had reminded him of his mother…how willing she was in giving up her own life…

Perhaps…

That is why…

"Yes." He replied coldly. "I remember."

Kamui had fallen silent – he had reverted back into his original form, but his haunches were still up, as if wanting to destroy Seishiro at any moment.

Subaru nodded, the beginning of tears forming in his eyes. "But…I trusted…you. I…believed…you. Every word you said…all that time…I believed you. And now I realize that it was all lies…" He closed his emerald orbs tightly, looking like he was trying to force the tears back into them before they leaked out.

Seishiro noticed the boy's shaking, and the grin he had been wearing disappeared.

"But…I still…I still…"

"You want to kill me…right?" Seishiro finished the sentence for him, as if reading his mind. He had no trouble saying those words, for they were true.

Subaru now wore a face of a determined warrior, a disposition that reminded him so much of Syaoran's…the face of growth…the face of maturity…the face of someone who had experienced an exponential amount of trauma and grief in his short life, and had lived to tell the tale…and learn from his past…

Had he missed that much?

"Not just that."

Subaru walked closer, the few steps that he took reverberating in Seishiro's ears; Kamui's widened eyes were following his every stride.

Subaru's eyes were now focused entirely on Seishiro's mismatched ones.

The altruistic boy…

The savage hunter…

Looking into each other's eyes…

Into each other's souls…

The small smile Seishiro had before returned, but now with a new understanding behind it.

"Subaru…you are too kind to me. I don't deserve the compassion, the sympathy that you have given me. You are truly pure."

Now he knew the fate that awaited him.

There was no mistaking it.

He was indebted to it from the moment he was born – his lineage really had followed him wherever he went.

There was something in the boy's eyes now – a storm cloud that wavered in and out in his eyes.

Subaru's eyes finally thinned until Seishiro could only see the light of his orbs reflected by the lamp post's flicker.

The pentagrams on both his hands were evident now, the red aura reaching out bright and clear.

Subaru drew back his right hand.

Seishiro closed his eyes.

With a finishing blow, the boy punctured the hunter's body with his hand, the magical properties allowing him to go through the stomach and out his back, lancing him true and straight.

Kamui let out an audible gasp – he was petrified in his spot.

The feeling of Subaru's hand in his body was no short a fulfilling one for Seishiro. His body was now going through a metamorphosis – the metamorphosis of what had always awaited him. His breath came out choked and strangled, blood pooling in his mouth until he finally coughed, the blood coating the front of his priestly garb. With that cough, Subaru and Seishiro collapsed onto the ground, Subaru's hand still in his body until he chose to pull it out, fast and hard, only to catch Seishiro on his lap before he fell onto the cold ground.

Trying to catch his breath, and sensing the irony of that statement, Seishiro looked up at Subaru.

Subaru's formerly thin orbs were now wide. He was distraught, his chest heaving, his hands shaking, the blood that had come from Seishiro staining his clothing.

But he also had the look of someone who had just granted a deep promise to themselves.

Seishiro held that image in his memory, and treasured it.

With all of the strength he had left, he drew himself closer to Subaru's face, until his lips painted with his own blood reached the shell of the boy's ear.

"I…came here…I did…everything…because…I…"

He left this world, with only Subaru's words following him.

"_**I'm so sorry!" **_

Yes…

Now he could go…

He had accomplished…

The goal of the Sakurazukamori…

Just…like his mother always wanted…

There was no immortality like being killed by the one he loved most.

As he left, the sky, which had been held with grey clouds since the beginning, had grown stormier, and now, finally, razorblade raindrops were released, washing the world away of the trials long experienced with each cut.

_**Owari**_


End file.
